


Of Kings and Kisses

by SophnLiv



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater, the raven cycle, the raven king - Fandom
Genre: Bluesy deserves a first kiss, Breakfast Club, F/M, M/M, Multi, Spoilers, adam needs a bandaid, bluesy - Freeform, introspective smooching, post-raven king, pynch - Freeform, raven king spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-05 08:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6697390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophnLiv/pseuds/SophnLiv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>POST RAVEN KING - BEWARE SPOILERS</p><p>"and yet... the only thing at that moment Ganesy found to be unbelievable was the fact of the girl in front of him. It was unbelievable to him that Blue was standing there, all the fear and worry and longing and star-crossing and couldn’t be-ing, it was all over, and Blue Sargent was standing there, utterly and devastatingly kissable. And Ganesy had no idea what to do with his hands."</p><p>" he blinked warily, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face Ronan alone yet, wallowing in self-hatred was always more difficult when the other boy looked at him like that. And there was also the other aspects of their relationship he hadn’t had time to analyze and make sense of yet. Ronan’s thumb was still pressing soft and sure to the pulse point on the underside of his damaged wrist. Adam was blushing again."</p><p>A day after finding Glendower, killing the demon, killing Ganesy, unkilling Ganesy, and then taking a really big nap, everyone tries to figure out what they're feeling and wtf they're supposed to do now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, I wrote this around 3am after finishing TRK earlier in the day. Still fighting the post series funk and fic always helps so maybe this'll help you too! Very quick drabble/one-shot that could turn into a multi chapter but we'll see. Thanks so much and all cred obviously goes to MS! xx

       Depending on where you began the story, it was about Monmouth. It’s door had just been knocked on with small but assertive hands and Gansey wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He knew in the logical sense of  _ answer the door _ and  _ say hello  _ but everything around him no longer hummed with the nervous energy of  _ seek. find. wake. know know know.  _ He was left with a strange sort of un-emptiness, a warm whole-ness that he was unaccustomed to. 

       And as the soft afternoon light filtered through the high windows of Monmouth onto Blue’s silky pearl shift in the doorway, he became acutely aware of the specific  _ parts _ of himself that he didn’t know what to do with. His hands hung uselessly against his rumpled khakis (he hadn’t bothered to change before crashing into his bed the fateful night before. Before the weights on his eyelids dragged him entirely into oblivion for the following 14 hours, he managed to scrawl in his notebook  _ Dying - unprecedentedly exhausting).  _

       The second body part what’s purpose was being called into question were his eyes. He typically maintained a monitored “above the nose only” approach to looking at the girl in front of him, but as he ushered her inside with a smile, they flitted dangerously down. Down over her flushed freckled cheeks, the slightest sheen of dew on her elegant cupid’s bow, down to the most forbidden of all, her mouth. Out of habit, he brushed over it quickly, shifting his gaze to hint of lace trim across her collarbone and- 

       “Ehem,” she cleared her throat, quirking an eyebrow to show she wasn’t actually upset at his only slightly apologetic staring. “It still doesn’t feel real.” The way she spoke was half laugh, half harsh expulsion of air. He shut the door and followed her into the middle of the warmly lit room.

       There were too many things she could be referring to. The finding of Glendower, the subsequent and downright  _ deadness _ of Glendower, the momentary and decidedly less downright deadness of Ganesy himself, the demon’s defeat, the sacrifice of Cabeswater to bring him back. All of these were notable and paramount instances to be ruminating on and yet... the only thing at that moment Ganesy found to be unbelievable was the fact of the girl in front of him. It was unbelievable to him that Blue was standing there, all the fear and worry and longing and star-crossing and couldn’t be-ing, it was all  _ over _ , and Blue Sargent was standing there, utterly and devastatingly kissable. And Ganesy had no idea what to do with his hands. 

       “Did you just come home and pass out?” she eyed his hastily discarded boots and sweater on the floor and the disarray of his t-shirt. He blinked twice, trying desperately to form a sentence but becoming lost in the languid way she scratched her neck with sparkly navy fingernails, leaving soft red marks in their wake.  _ He would like to leave some marks there.  _ He shook his head slightly trying to clear it. “Calla had to give mom some of her extra special tea last night she was so wired. The extra is whiskey,” she rambled on casually. “And then she had to give Orla one too because  _ she  _ obviously dealt with a major trauma last night and then eventually we just passed it around after I articulated that I might be the one who actually most needed some calming...” she trailed off. Laughed a little. Looked pointedly past the large elephant in the room  _ (we had our first kiss last night with the intention to sacrifice you and then you died while your lips were kind still on mine and now you’re alive again and we’re standing here... alone?) _

__  “Where are- everyone?” she finished eloquently. 

“Ronan drove straight to DC to make sure Matthew was actually as fine as Declan claimed and Henry stayed with Adam because he wanted to be home but we weren’t sure he should be alone what with the Cabeswater no longer existing and him being part Cabeswater..” he trailed off. Laughed a little.Charged directly towards the elephant with a smile.

      Blue was inspecting the curtains and turned at the sound of him crossing the room. “Have you eaten? We were all supposed to meet for breakfast but it’s already so late and I don’t know what time they’ll be up but I need coffee and we probably have some time if you-” she was interrupted by whisper of her satin skirts brushing up against his knees as he pressed in close. Danger-zone close.  The kind of close they avoided all together because with one millimeter between their lips it would be far too easy too- oh. He curled a hand around the back of her flushed neck, her nose pliant and unexpectedly, but far from unpleasantly, cold against his. A soft breath of mint washed over her as he parted his lips and leaned in-

      “Ganesy?” she didn’t move. Neither did he.

      “Yes Jane?” he was was electrified, she was everywhere.

      “The curse, we don’t know if it’s fully gone. I don’t want to hurt you or-” He grinned as he crashed his mouth to hers. He wasn’t afraid of anything anymore.

       So this was kissing. This was kissing and meaning it. Blue thought she’d been fine with the nosing, and necking, and hair stroking, and that she wasn’t really missing out on anything anyway but she was  _ wrong. _ All of her senses were  _ Ganesy Ganesy Fire Fire Fire _ . She inhaled sharply through her nose, coming to her tiptoes to press to him fully. Her bangled arms wrapped around his neck, fingertips digging into shoulders, wilder and faster and hungrier than it’d ever been before. He responded with a strong hand on her waist, her ribs, curling around the top of ribcage just under her chest. She became distinctly aware of the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra. She became distinctly aware that she didn’t care. Ganesy cared, she became aware that she could  _ feel  _ him caring against her hip. She let out a soft gasp into his mouth eliciting a gentle bite of her lip and then she was against the wall. He had picked her up in a fluid movement she’d hardly noticed and she wrapped legs around his waist in a way he noticed a great deal. Her vintage shift had hiked up around her thigh, making way for hands, Ganesy’s hands, that she’d only allowed herself to admire from an observational standpoint and now they were raking trails of fire up her thighs.

       This was months of no’s and cant’s imploding into one writhing yes yes yes and she was undone. She prided herself on being a sensible person, a girl with a good head on her shoulders. But at this moment Blue wasn’t even positive she  _ had _ shoulders because his entire tongue was in her mouth and he tasted like mint and sunshine and heat and please more. She could normally only feel the stars in her chest when she was outside but now they fizzled and burned under every inch of her skin, alighting with every movement of his lips.

       “Blue-” he moaned into the hollow of her jaw. She clutched his face and held it, his eyes held Cabeswater churning in a storm, his lips were swollen and an unholy shade of pink. Her king was an animal, wild and marvelous and breathing and  _ alive _ .

       “I love you,” she said against his lips, pulling them into the kiss again. 

        “SO how does everyone feel about-” Henry Cheng burst through the heavy door with all of the ceremony of a grizzly bear. He eyed the scene with surprise but very little embarrassment “hashbrowns?” he finished. “Because I hear there’s about to be a magical artifacts mob war and I’m going to need fried potatoes to deal with that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam doesn't understand feelings or people or much of anything at this point. Everyone is in shock but at least there's breakfast food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... not a one shot apparently! I can't leave these characters alone

Adam Parrish was feeling... things. New things. Well more of a  _ thing  _ and he wasn’t enjoying it. Specifically, the thing he was feeling was boredom. He’d never really had a chance to be bored. If it wasn’t Aglionby (which it most often was), it was work and if it wasn’t work it was other more magically inclined work, and if it wasn’t other more magically inclined work, it was home and at home his father certainly never left him with a chance, or the energy, or the sheer will, to be anything other than busy, beaten, or asleep. 

But right now, as Adam sat sticking to the sweaty vinyl booth, sandwiched between Henry Cheng and Blue who were animatedly discussing some kind of  _ “fantastical trip of wonderment and self discovery” _ (Henry) and if they could  _ “leave with all these weirdos still milling about Henrietta? And what about Maura?” _ (Blue), and what those strange people’s  _ “motivations could be..” _ (Ganesy), Adam picked at his eggs and listened to the steady thrum of emptiness in his chest where Cabeswater used to be, and he was bored. He glanced to the space across from him, seeking Ronan’s obstinate, cool gaze to center him, but he found only an empty wall of red and white tile behind the empty seat in his stead. Empty.

It wasn’t like Ronan was  _ gone forever _ . It wasn’t like Adam was  _ missing him. _ He was only in DC. He’d seen him the day before. Or maybe it was more like a day and a half ago now... time has a funny way of bending when you nearly apprehend the apocalypse. Actually it was more like two and a half days since he’d really talked to him since being possessed and almost being killed in your dreams can’t really be considered quality time. And before that it wasn’t really talking that they’d been doing. 

His cheeks flushed as he remember just how little talking they’d been doing at the barns only, what was it... three days ago? It felt like yesterday. It felt like years. It felt like-

“Adam are you alright? You’re a bit crimson,” Ganesy kicked him gently under the table, eyeing him with concern. Ganesy. Who had just died. Who was fielding calls from his entire family trying to tell him just how much he’d disappointed them. Ganesy, who was now part mythical forest manifestation in a sweater, was concerned about  _ him _ . Adam choked down a chuckle, turned redder, and then gave up trying to choke down anything and began to laugh with such ferocity the others had no choice to but to nervously join in, until the lack of oxygen killed the nervousness and they had drawn attention of the diner with their fit of genuine hysterics. He managed to catch his breath and take a sip of tepid water, only to catch a glimpse of Henry Cheng, epitome of Aglionby class, across the table laughing with a psychic’s daughter wearing his ratty Coca Cola t-shirt. Logically he was able to process that Henry had spent the night on his floor due to exhaustion and to make sure neither of them were going to spontaneously combust, and as his clothes were covered in black demon goop from the day before, he borrowed a shirt. But the image and implications of the entire situation were so absurd he was sent into another round of wracking, almost silent, wheezing laughter. If Adam Parrish two years ago was to walk into the diner and see Adam Parrish currently, he would turn around and walk straight into a psychiatric hospital.  _ Maybe I still should _ , he thought between wheezes,  _ this can’t possibly be my reality.  _

The door slamming open gave them all a brief respite from their hysterics. 

“Who put coke in your cornflakes?” Ronan Lynch blandly addressed the table of red faced and teary eyed teens. The laughter died down but didn’t stop. “Seriously, what’s the fucking joke?”

“Ronan!” Ganesy sobered enough to clear a space at the booth and gesture him to it “You got my text. Glad you made it. How are Declan and Matthew?”

“Dickish and doe-eyed, respectively,” he scowled but there was a peace in his gaze informing them all was well. He sat, stole Blue’s uneaten bacon, and proceeded to silently bore a hole into Henry Cheng’s shoulder with his gaze, “Nice shirt.”

“I haven’t been back home. Didn’t think Auntie would take too kindly to me be covered in black blood and all that,” he met Ronan’s gaze coolly but not unkindly, unfazed by the boy’s intensity. Adam was no longer bored.

Ronan chewed slowly, perennially narrowed eyes flicking to his own. Adam felt it in his spine and the souls of his feet. He felt it in his sharp intake of breathe and the crown of his head. He didn’t know what they were doing but from one look he was very sure he didn’t want it to stop. He may have missed him.

“Did you all stay at Monmouth?”

“Well actually,” Blue trailed off, it seemed odd that after all they’d been through only hours before, they’d slept apart. 

“I wanted to be alone,” Ganesy stated factually, not quite making eye contact with anyone.

Ronan’s word’s came out as a growl “You thought it was a good idea to leave the one who just died  _ alone _ to catch up on his beauty sleep?” His knuckles turned white, clenching the linoleum table. 

“It wasn’t like that Ronan. I needed to be with my family, Maura is a mess and we were only apart for a few hours-”

“Right,” he cut her off with an unhappy smile “because what could possibly happen in a couple of hours.”

The all sat back as even more reality filtered in. All of the time and pain and effort and dreams and sacrifice had concluded with a dusty pile of bones and a bloody scramble on the side of the rode, all of it occupying only as much time as a day of classes. 

“I appreciate your concern but I’m really alright,” Ganesy squared his shoulders “We’re alive and eating breakfast and we’re all alright.” He smiled and they almost missed Blue slipping her fingers through his under the table. 

“Alive, sure. But I don’t know if leatherface here classifies as ‘alright’” he cocked a head towards Blue. She glared and checked the fresh stitches in her eyebrow.

“You’re just jealous that I get this awesome scar and all you have to prove your badassness is a bird.”

“Don’t need proof, midget. I have a rap sheet for that,” his tone was lazy, his neck relaxing to the side, stretching the top of his tattoo in the sun from the paned glass window behind them. The small movement caused the collar of his wrinkled black t shirt to slide an inch, revealing a deep purple ring around his neck. Adam’s vision grew blurry and his eggs threatened to come back up. Flashes of the day before hit him like leaves whipping his face in a windstorm, relentless and stinging one after the other.  _ Those were his thumbprints on Ronan’s neck. His greed for power and weakness to possession had given the demon everything it needed to hurt everything he cared about. My fault my fault my fault.  _ He tore his eyes away with some struggle, refusing to meet the other boy’s gaze again. 

Ronan shrugged and readjusted his dirty shirt. “At least I don’t look like I just stepped out of Fifty Shades like Parrish.”

Blue snorted and Adam shot them a confused look. Was it that bad? He’d woken up, thrown Henry a shirt and left to meet the others, he hadn’t given himself time to take stock of his own injuries. He hadn’t even had a chance to really sit and feel anything other than the silence buzzing in his head and the emptiness in his chest. He ran his fingertips along the bumpy ridges starting to scab across his face. He held a hand up so the sleeve of his hoody fell to his forearm and he could survey the damage. Deep purple bruises circled his wrist along with oozing patches that had been rubbed raw where’d he struggled against the bonds. His fingers were much the same as well as one being at an odd angle. It hurt, but not as much as the realization of what his hands had done to look like that.

“I’m fine,” he managed, sounding exceedingly less-than. He gazed up at Ronan through tawny lashes. It was the first time they’d spoken since they’d all parted ways the night before. And before that he’d had his hands around his neck.  _ Right, fine. _

“Don’t be a fucking idiot,” Ronan growled and gently grabbed his wrist from across the table, his light fingers making it possible to pull away. Adam didn’t.

“Come on,” Ronan stood.

“What, where?” he blinked warily, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face Ronan alone yet, wallowing in self-hatred was always more difficult when the other boy looked at him like that. And there was also the  _ other  _ aspects of their relationship he hadn’t had time to analyze and make sense of yet. Ronan’s thumb was still pressing soft and sure to the pulse point on the underside of his damaged wrist. Adam was blushing again.

“Get you cleaned up, there’s a bunch of dreamed medical shit at the Barns,” thick eyebrow raised over sharp cheekbone, challenging him to refuse.

“You should go Adam, it looks pretty bad,” Blue piped in helpfully.

He looked to his plate, the door, and then to the curl of Ronan’s top lip. He pretended he had to think about it for half a second and then threw down two crumpled fives and headed towards the gleaming BMW in the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know if you'd like to see more of this little whatever it is


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is like chapter 3.5 because it was getting really long and I haven't posted in awhile (because I was locked in my room reading the Throne of Glass series seriously omg) so the second half cometh soon. Also, warning: going to be inflammatory language while in character POV and it's not meant to offend only to characterize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't really supposed to be a *thing* but I got such lovely comments and I'm having so much fun so why not continue ily for reading

_“Don’t break him, Adam”._ Ganesy’s words rolled through his brain until he was dizzy. Or maybe it was the blur of evening colors outside the cool car window on which his face was pressed that was causing the upset in his equilibrium. It wasn’t particularly hot in the car but the no-doubt excessive speed of the driver coupled with the golden hugh of the descending evening lent itself to a soft heat that spread through Adam’s stomach. He reached out and flicked the vent towards his face. The driver’s eyes followed the movement, coming to rest on his cheekbone. Adam couldn’t tell if it was the air conditioning or the probing gaze that made his hair stand up, neither went unappreciated. (The Hondoyota had central air but it would sometimes suddenly change from cool and refreshing to an assault of hot wind into the unsuspecting passenger's face.)

“Keep your eyes on the road, you’re going to kill us,” Adam bit back a smile and inspected the odd angle of his left pinkie finger.

“A car crash might improve your looks at this point.”

Adam swung his eyes to meet the other boy’s, Ronan turned to the road ahead.

_“Don’t break him.”_

He looked at the driver beside him. Studied him. He was hard planes and harsh lines. Haphazard switches of a blade across a dark canvas. Nothing about him alluded _breakable._

But there was more. On first glance, Ronan Lynch screamed at you. _Rage. Sex. Loud. Gas. Fire. Look away or you’ll be consumed._ Most people trusted that initial gut feeling and looked away and so most people missed what Adam did not. Most people never noticed the lazy quirk of his lips that settled there whenever he wasn’t consciously making an effort to frown. They didn’t see the small patch he’d missed shaving just slightly to the left of his adam’s apple. Most people didn’t observe his lithe thumbs tapping a diligent beat into the leather stretched over the steering wheel. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and his his skull was a deep downy brown, Adam fought the urge to find out if it was as soft as it looked in this fading light. He almost didn’t win, but the angry thumbprint of a bruise stopped his hand before it could move. He winced into the dark interior of the car. _How could Ronan ever want to be touched by him again._

 _“Don’t break him.”_ Like he was some sort of toy. The model car in Adam’s hands. Ridiculous. If anything, Adam felt like a toy. A wind-up toy cranked up  all the way to the end and then set on his back, never getting to release that energy and just churning up his insides in the process of trying. He pressed his forehead back to the glass, watching as the blur of buildings became farther apart and the rustling Virginia fields more abundant. Ronan cranked up his electronic metal and this time instead of pretending to object, Adam closed his eyes and let the reverberations of the bass off the window and the seat fill his chest and just _breathed._

 _“Don’t break him.”_ Adam wasn’t even whole enough to hold himself together, there was no way such a fragile thing could take anything else apart. Especially not a thing like the strange creature beside him.

 

*****

“So are you going to spoon me soup and cry over my bedside as you nurse me back to health?”

Adam never put much inflection into his jokes and he always looked like he was trying not to smile when he spoke. As if the idea of himself being funny was too ludicrous to acknowledge with a facial movement. Ronan allowed himself a sly grin to make up the discrepancy.

“Are you picturing me in a nurse’s apron now? You better not go all stockholm syndrome on my ass Parrish, I can barely stand you as is.” Lie.

“Stockholm syndrome is for kidnapping victims.” Adam replied wryly, following Ronan up the porch steps and trying very hard not to get lost in the memory of what was happening the last time they’d been standing here.

“I never said I wasn’t going to tie you up and lock you in my basement,” Ronan tapped the door twice with his boot and it obediently swung open and closed behind them.

“Mm tempting but that’ll have to wait until my wrists aren’t as fragile and bruised as your ego.”

Adam had meant it to come across flippantly, like all their banter before, casual jibes and jokes laced with the occasional slight innuendo. But a line had been crossed on that afternoon in Matthew’s room and both boys had to pretend not to notice the palpable change of atmosphere. Ronan gritted his teeth, casually stretching to tap the doorframe as they passed through, communicating silently that he wasn’t having the slightest trouble not picturing Adam tied to his bedpost with a scarf, flushed and grinning and- he coughed lightly. He was so accustomed to stopping these images before they had a chance to consume his thoughts. But now it was... allowed? Or perhaps Adam wanted them to stay as they were before, maybe he’d just been humoring him. Hell maybe the little demon bastard was a fag too and only possessed Adam to stick his tongue down Ronan’s throat. Maybe now that Adam was himself he was repulsed by it all and that was why he was so quiet. He was probably only here to tell Ronan to fuck off and was figuring out how to do it politely-

Ronan was forced to silence his all too familiar inner self-hatred dialogue because Adam had moved close enough in the wide hallway for his undamaged pinky to brush against his own as they walked and Ronan honored every insignificant time he touched Adam with the reverence of a preacher on easter sunday. He shook his head as he lead them into the spacious marble bathroom, soft fire spreading from the small point of contact in his hand.  _Adam could control his thoughts easier than a fucking demon._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a ton for reading! Let me know what you thought/if you'd read if I continue xxxx


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